d less
likely to have intended to amuse himself with a second love within
twelve months of his marriage than Lord George Germain. He had never
been a Lothario,--had never thought himself to be gifted in that way.
In the first years of his manhood, when he had been shut up at Manor
Cross, looking after his mother's limited means, with a full conviction
that it was his duty to sacrifice himself to her convenience, he had
been apt to tell himself that he was one of those men who have to go
through life without marrying--or loving. Though strikingly handsome,
he had never known himself to be handsome. He had never thought himself
to be clever, or bright, or agreeable. High birth had been given to
him, and a sense of honour. Of those gifts he had been well aware and
proud enough, but had taken credit to himself for nothing else. Then
had come that startling episode of his life in which he had fallen in
love with Adelaide De Baron, and then the fact of his marriage with
Mary Lovelace. Looking back at it now, he could hardly understand how
it had happened that he had either fallen in love or married. He
certainly was not now the least in love with Mrs. Houghton. And, though
he did love his wife dearly, though the more he saw of her the more he
admired her, yet his marriage had not made him happy. He had to live on
her money, which galled him, and to be assisted by the Dean's money,
which was wormwood to him. And he found himself to be driven whither
he did not wish to go, and to be brought into perils from which his
experience did not suffice to extricate him. He already repented the
step he had taken in regard to his brother, knowing that it was the
Dean who had done it, and not he himself. Had he not married, he might
well have left the battle to be fought in after years,--when his
brother should be dead, and very probably he himself also.

He was aware that he must be very firm with Mrs. Houghton. Come what
might he must give her to understand quite clearly that all love-making
must be over between them. The horrors of such a condition of things
had been made much clearer to him than before by his own anxiety in
reference to Captain De Baron. But he knew himself to be too
soft-hearted for such firmness. If he could send some one else, how
much better it would be! But, alas! this was a piece of work which no
deputy could do for him. Nor could a letter serve as a deputy. Let him
write as carefully as he might, he must say thi